


gerard way, kickass demigirl: a not!fic

by shslry (orphan_account)



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Misgendering, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Not!Fic, Other, Panic Attacks, Power Dynamics, Queer Character, Queer Themes, Suicide, Teacher-Student Relationship, Trans Character, Transmisogyny, Transphobia, demigirl gerard, transfeminine gerard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2858756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/shslry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(in the meantime, frank is spending his days feeling like the biggest fucking creepy piece of shit ever, because, <em>shit</em>, gerard is his <em>eighteen year old student</em>, this shit is <em>not okay</em>. he probably convinces himself to quit his job and find something somewhere there are no gerards like every single night, but then like fucking clockwork, the next day he sees gerard in her fucking boots and leather jacket and cherry ass red hair and basically perfect opinions on <em>everything</em>, and her, like adorable tiny teeth and pixie nose and big honking laugh she only lets loose when something is <em>really</em> funny, and he’s like <em>fuck fuck fuck</em> but he just, he <em>can’t</em>. he’s a big pathetic creepy creep but he <em>can’t</em> leave.)</p>
<p>//</p>
<p>really weird inconsistent not!fic in which gerard is a transfeminine high school student and frank is her teacher. also gerard, mikey, ray, and bob are in a queercore band called nancy drew. because why the hell not</p>
            </blockquote>





	gerard way, kickass demigirl: a not!fic

**Author's Note:**

> gerard way made a #nbrightsnow tweet and someone i follow on tumblr reblogged a screencap of it and tagged it "#my sweet demigirl gender prince" and i totally cried and then wrote this entire thing in like 2 hours from 3-5 am. i'm probably going to hell
> 
> some warnings:  
> 1) flippant/casual discussion about/reference to violence against trans people/specifically trans women, including misgendering, verbal and physical abuse  
> 2) semi graphic discussion of suicide, as well as semi graphic description of a panic attack  
> 3) the beautiful gerard way: transfeminine prince that lives in my head is totally fond of her dick and all the awesome things it can do, and there is flippant/casual mentions of gerard's dick throughout this. she's a fan of how it looks in really tight pants. so is frank. i don't know if this actually counts as a warning  
> 4) obviously, inherently unhealthy power dynamics between two people involved romantically with each other. specifically, gerard is an eighteen year old camab trans person and frank is her 24 year old cis male teacher. if you for some reason clicked on this because you saw "demigirl gerard" but you are uncomfortable teacher/student relationships or whatever, fear not, i am planning on writing another transfeminine gerard fic. one that's actually, like, a real fic, too  
> 5) oh, oh, there's also semi frequent use of the q slur, and like anyone who might be using it is in a position to reclaim it (including me) but still i understand use of that word makes some people uncomfortable, so
> 
> ok and finally, there is a complete lack of grammar/capitalization in this, sorry about that i guess

gerard the most kickass transfeminine/demigirl ever to set foot in high school, and ~~frank~~ mr. iero the young+hot+new teacher. ft mikey and ray the uncertain but always supportive younger brother/friend. also mcr is a thing. like, sort of. it’s not really mcr, and frank is (obviously) not a member, but it is a band in which gerard sings/writes lyrics, mikey plays bass, ray plays guitar, and bob plays drums or something although he’s not really in the rest of this probably. OH OH. i’m pretty sure i remember gerard and mikey saying they had a punk band called nancy drew at one point. so that’s their band’s name. yeah.

so gerard, she’s eighteen, transfeminine, bi, and, like, unapologetically queer. even when it sometimes means she gets black eyes from assholes at school. oh shit wait what if nancy drew is like, super queercore and generally only play gigs at like, Confirmed Trans Friendly lgbt bars/clubs/events. mikey and ray probably handle booking any gigs they may get so that they’re sure they won’t have to end the night beating the shit out of a transmisogynist for some reason. gerard’s like “you guys i can handle regular venues it’s okay honestly” but when you are so close to a transfeminine person you become acutely aware of how much society fucking hates trans women and really they just aren’t willing to take any chances.

i don’t actually know anything about queercore but i feel like it’d be weird for a queercore band to have any cishet members so like, mikey and ray are gay. mikey and ray are gay for EACH OTHER, OH MY GOD. bob, who probably just like magically appears when they/i need him, is definitely a trans dude.

anyway, okay, so: GERARD. eighteen, transfeminine, bi, publicly out as a binary trans girl (because really it’s just easier to tell people she’s binary trans instead of trying to explain what transfeminine and demigirl mean to every other person she meets), even though this means that she is like 90% more likely to get the absolute shit beat out of her and have nobody care. i think she probably looks like danger days!gerard, bright red stringy hair and the sort of hardened, badass, ‘i’ve seen some shit’ look on her face. i really want her to wear muscle tees and tight pants just because it’s hot, but i think she’d only dress like that at home and probably at gigs where she knows she (probably) doesn’t have to worry about someone seeing her dick through her tight ass jeans and trying to put her in the hospital. at school/in the general public she probably wears clothes that make her look pretty shapeless, maybe if she’s feeling up to it she’ll wear a skirt or something. no matter where she is, though, she is never seen without a leather jacket.

gerard fucking hates school. gerard fucking _hates_ school. the only good part about it is lunch, otherwise it’s just literally hours of mind numbingly boring shit full of students and teachers who constantly misgender her and treat her as subhuman.

she probably gets beat up a lot, shows up at home with split lips and the occasional black eye (although the people at her school tend to try to keep the punches aimed places the bruises can be hidden), bruises on her torso a lot, you know. her parents fucking hate it, but they’ve tried talking to the school district before and nothing is ever done about it, and they can’t really afford to move to a different school, and anyway even if they did, who’s to say it wouldn’t be just as bad there?

she tries to avoid going to the restroom at school if she can, although the faculty have pretty much stopped trying to punish her for using the girls’ restroom because they’ve done basically everything they could but gerard is not so easily deterred. she’s gotten pretty good at figuring out which bathrooms are most likely to be empty at which times, so that if she absolutely _has_ to go, she at least has more of a chance of not running into anyone looking to use her as a punching bag.

maybe sometimes she wonders if it’s worth it? but she thinks at the end of the day the lowest of the lows while not having to hide who she is is probably better than how it was before she came out.

SO. ANYWAY. gerard’s a senior. maybe it’s, like, a few months into the school year. she’s like “okay, gee, you got this, only seven more months and then you will be out of this hellhole forever”, but then, because she can never catch a break, her english teacher retires. it’s not even that she really liked her english teacher? he was an asshole. all of her teachers are. even the art teacher, even though he’s maybe a little more willing to pretend he’s not a huge bigot since she’s the only one at the fucking school who can even draw, or something. so, like, it’s not that she’s going to miss him. it’s just that new teacher means having to explain her gender. again. and maybe, _maybe_ , if she’s _lucky_ , the teacher will condescendingly pretend to understand/accept her for like five minutes when she tells them, but even that’s unlikely. the last time there was a new teacher, she got sent to the office for wearing a skirt, _which was not appropriate attire for boys_. gerard isn’t even letting herself _imagine_ a scenario where the teacher isn’t an asshole.

the teacher, obviously, is frank. _mr. iero_. he probably became a teacher because he had a fucking awful teacher when he was in high school and he wanted to prove to himself not all teachers are like that, or something. if gerard’s eighteen, he’s probably like 23 or 24. let’s say 23, and this starts in like early october, so he’ll be turning 24 soon-ish. actually if this is the beginning of the school year and gerard wasn’t held back or something she’d be 17, wouldn’t she. whatever this isn’t even a real fucking fic who cares about things like logic. ANYWAY.

mr. iero is super cool. he has this long, like, shoulder length hair, and he wears like skinny ties and cardigans and shit, and basically he’s just super fucking hot, like holy shit _hello_ , mr. iero, i will totally take a detention from you. he’s really energetic, too, and genuinely nice and not condescending and pretty much that teacher we all wish we’d had when we were kids. gerard doesn’t fucking trust it.

it’s maybe about halfway through her first day of class with him, when he calls on her. they’re talking about, like, different forms of poetry or something idk, and she’s sitting in the corner of the room, slouched in her chair, _definitely_ not raising her hand, but he still calls on her, which is how she knows he’s a douchebag immediately.

gerard sits up, surprised, and she can hear the assholes around her staring and snickering behind their hands, obviously waiting for the show that is _watch the new teacher embarrass the freak_ , but she ignores them because she totally can be the bigger person no matter what mikey says. she realizes she knows the answer to the question, something about rhyme schemes, so she answers it quickly, voice cracking as she pitches it up suddenly, in the hopes that maybe if he gets the answer from her fast enough he’ll leave her alone.

he does not.

“what’s your name?” mr. iero asks, smiling in a way that kind of makes her insides clench.

“gerard,” she says. there’s silence for a moment before he seemingly moves on, but she doesn’t have to be looking at him to know that he’s taking in her skirt, the small amount of makeup she has on, the pink nail polish still there from the last time she hung out with lindsey the lesbian bassist she met at a gig a while ago, and they did each other’s nails. she doesn’t have to be looking at him to know that she’d been feeling good about her body this morning so she left the scarf at home, which meant that it didn’t take much at all to notice her adam’s apple, to notice her broad shoulders.

the rest of the lesson goes by fine, though, and this is her last class of the day, and when the bell rings she nearly sighs in relief, but as she’s leaning over her chair, stuffing things in her bag, about to leave, she hears mr. iero ask her to stay behind for a moment. all the other kids filter out and she slowly turns around, steeling herself for whatever is about to happen.

mr. iero is sitting casually on his desk, and as she focuses her gaze on him, he looks her directly in the eye. she’s expecting it, expecting the condescending, disgusted stare, the _why are you wearing girl clothes_ , the _i’m giving you detention for not acting like a boy your age should_ , and a multitude of other offensive things she’s heard in the past. she looks him directly in the eye, too, focusing on setting her expression to _i don’t even fucking care, you mean nothing to me_ , but.

but mr. iero’s expression is soft, and there’s something in his eyes that gerard’s never seen in the expression of any other teachers before, and when he _does_ speak, he says gently and quietly, “i don’t want to, like, pry or anything, because it’s not my place and i understand you might not be comfortable with talking with me about it, but i just wanted to ask you exactly what pronouns you prefer.” gerard blinks. this is not what she had been expecting.

“uh,” she says, still not entirely sure what’s going on. she can feel her _don’t fuck with me_ mask dropping as she speaks. “i, um. i’m—her. she/her.”

mr. iero nods and is like “if there’s ever anything you want to talk to me about, or anything i can help you with, just let me know,” and when she quietly thanks him, he smiles his huge kilowatt smile and gerard just kind of stares at him for a moment before realizing she’s kind of blushing and thinking, _shit_.

later, when mikey asks if the new english teacher gave her any trouble, she doesn’t say yes even though she kind of wants to because she knows he’s not talking about the kind of trouble she thinks she might be in.

AND SO. thus begins gerard’s epic crush on mr. iero. it’s totally tragic and she probably starts wearing, like, a lot more eyeliner to school than she usually would as a way to express her pain. one day she probably wears a really obscure comic book or band shirt or something and mr. iero compliments her on it and she dies a little inside.

–

well okay it probably doesn’t start immediately. she’s probably suspicious as hell for a while, waiting for the other ball to drop every time he uses the right pronouns, every time he refuses to tolerate the other students fucking with her. but slowly she realizes that he’s actually, like, cool? he’s genuinely nice and understanding and accepting.

gerard doesn’t usually fight back when people pick on her. not because of some bullshit idea of, like, “don’t fight fire with fire”, but probably because she just doesn’t see the point. she’s probably the kind of person who ignores it as much as possible, and any time she can’t ignore it she takes it with a brave face while silently reminding herself how much better she is than everyone else at the entire school.

so it figures the _one fucking time_ she decides to fight back a teacher ends up coming across her and Unnamed Douchebag just as she’s, like, slapping them or something. needless to say, she gets detention—with mr. iero, obv.

she has detention every day for like two weeks (idk how detention works so that could be totally inaccurate), and she’s really supposed to just sit quietly for like an hour after school, work on homework or something, but mr. iero is a Cool Dude and he recognizes how shitty and unfair this is so he asks her to help him “organize things” as an excuse to talk to her so that maybe she’s not so terribly bored.

the thing is?? mr. iero is _cool_. he’s so awesome and funny and he likes a lot of the same stuff as gerard. i, the op, do not know anything about the kind of music/movies/comics/etc they would like because i am The Worst, but just use your imagination i’m sure you can envision it fairly well.

he probably pushes the sleeves of his cardigan up at some point, and, like, gerard _knew_ he had some tattoos, obviously, like there’s no hiding those knuckle tats (and seriously how the hell did he get a teaching job with those), but then he rolls his sleeves up so his forearms are exposed for the first time ever in front of gerard and it’s like this whole new, glorious world of ink. gerard wants to implode.

gerard finds herself talking to him about _things_ , too. things she doesn’t really talk about with anyone but mikey. gender things.

one day gerard is wearing a dress. as expected, she gets even more negative attention than usual, but she fucking loves this dress, so who the fuck even cares honestly. she looks great—lindsey told her so, and lindsey doesn’t lie about that shit.

she’s sitting by mr. iero’s desk during detention, organizing some papers for him while he’s out getting something from the teacher’s lounge. as she shuffles them together, he bounds back into the room and over to the desk, dropping down heavily into his chair before swiveling dramatically in her direction. “gerard way,” he says as he watches her work. she looks up at him, questioning. “you are my _favorite_.” gerard absolutely does not blush. “i love your dress, by the way.”

the thing is that, while being about 99% sure by this point that mr. iero is genuine, she’s still constantly waiting for the other ball to drop, so hearing him say this makes her a little frustrated, a little confused. “it really doesn’t bother you? or, like, weird you out?” she asks quietly, decidedly looking anywhere but him.

“no…?” he says, and when she sneaks a glance, he looks like he genuinely can’t even _comprehend_ such a thing. “does it… bother you?” and, fuck, gerard can recognize a Teacher Voice when she hears one, but something about it sounds like he’s genuinely concerned, as well.

“fuck no,” she says. there was a time when she might have felt a little weird about swearing so openly in front of a teacher, but she’s heard mr. iero use all sorts of _language_ since the start of these detentions, so it barely even fazes her now. “but. it bothers the shit out of most people.”

“those people are fucking stupid.” mr. iero just shrugs, as though he’s just made some innocent comment about the weather. gerard blinks in some disbelief. “i mean, like, you’d have to be a pretty big idiot to not see how awesome you are, so.” he grins. gerard swallows.

so then gerard finds herself talking to him about it a lot more. at some point she sort of explains her identity to him in detail, even though that’s only something she’s ever done for her family, ray, and bob. she can spend hours ranting about cissexism and fucking asshole transmisogynists, and mr. iero _lets her_. not only does he let her, but he agrees with her. it’s fucking surreal.

he asks her at one point how she knew/what it was like for her, figuring all this shit out. she tries to be as honest as possible, tries not to sugarcoat it too much, because she thinks he’s one of those people who, like, if she’s like “it fucking sucked and i’ve never felt more alone than i did then and i hated everyone and everything especially myself”, he’ll probably get it, at least as much as he possibly can.

(there are some things she leaves out, though, because she doesn’t really like to talk about them if she can help it. and even someone like mr. iero doesn’t need to hear that shit.)

–

obviously “two weeks detention” is probably not nearly enough time for this much shit to happen but like what the fuck ever i never claimed to be a good writer. so let’s just pretend that, like, she continues staying after she’s served all her detentions. maybe he’s offering extra credit for her to help him sort/grade shit even though they usually just end up talking the entire time and not getting any work done.

at some point i feel like gerard probably goes to school in something Super Damn Hot. she usually saves outfits that she feels hot in for when she’s going to hang out in specifically queer spaces, but, idk, maybe she and her bffle lindsey the lesbian bassist (who’s probably dating jamia tbh, who’s definitely frank’s best friend, because i’m a fucking sucker for obnoxious romcom plots like that) went shopping or something, and lindsey bought gerard this awesome dress, and gerard has been so busy lately she’s not sure the next time she/the band will be able to go to a gig or w/e, but she feels bad just letting it hang in her closet, so she forces herself to ignore her anxiety and wear it to school.

anyway, gerard goes to school dressed in this, like, floral print dress with sheer black tights, leather jacket, and kickass combat boots, and who knows maybe she’s just re-dyed her hair too, and just, the point is, there is this moment when she walks into english and mr. iero looks up just in time to see her, and gerard knows there’s always a chance it’s just wishful thinking, but she _swears_ she sees him rake his eyes up and down her body, and there’s this _look_ that crosses over his face, just for a moment, something dark and, fuck, __wanting_._

gerard’s had a crush on mr. iero for a while before this but this is probably the first time she actually goes home and, like, jerks off to the thought of him.

there is then this period of time, probably, where she dresses much nicer for school every day to conduct an _experiment_ , for _science_ , to see if she can get mr. iero to look at her like that again. he does. a lot. he also starts being a lot less eloquent around her, starts acting kind of nervous around her for some reason, and when they talk about shit like music and comic books and horror movies, he sometimes looks at her and just gets this _look_ on his face, like she’s—like she’s _everything_. gerard is certain she isn’t making this shit up. it’s pretty awesome.

(in the meantime, frank is spending his days feeling like the biggest fucking creepy piece of shit ever, because, _shit_ , gerard is his _eighteen year old student_ , this shit is _not okay_. he probably convinces himself to quit his job and find something somewhere there are no gerards like every single night, but then like fucking clockwork, the next day he sees gerard in her fucking boots and leather jacket and cherry ass red hair and basically perfect opinions on _everything_ , and her, like adorable tiny teeth and pixie nose and big honking laugh she only lets loose when something is _really_ funny, and he’s like _fuck fuck fuck_ but he just, he _can’t_. he’s a big pathetic creepy creep but he _can’t_ leave.)

–

gerard kisses frank on the last day of school before spring break, probably.

she’s still spending at least an hour after school most days hanging out with mr. iero in his classroom, and there’s this one day, they’re talking about music (as they often do), and gerard tells him about nancy drew. they’ve been doing this for months, but this is the first time gerard’s mentioned her band, though she’s not sure why. it’s just that, the band is really important to her, and she’s not sure she could handle it if mr. iero didn’t like them for some reason.

but that’s not the case at all. she tells him about it, and he’s fucking ecstatic. “yeah,” she says, flushing slightly with pleasure from the way he’s fawning over her. “mikey plays the bass, and ray plays guitar, and our friend bob does the drums for us.”

“what do you do?” he asks.

“i, uh. i sing. and write the lyrics.” she feels herself flushing even hard. fuck her naturally pale complexion, honestly.

“that’s fucking _awesome_ ,” mr. iero says, and he sounds a little breathless, and when gerard looks at him there’s just this _expression_ on his face, and it’s— _fuck_. as she thinks about it, she rationalizes that if anything goes wrong, it’s the last day before a two week break, so she won’t have to face reality immediately at least, and then gerard can’t _not_ do it, honestly.

they’re sitting a few feet across from each other, and she finds herself leaning in without even realizing what she’s doing at first, but she realizes that mr. iero is totally leaning towards her as well, and when his lips meet hers, they feel a little chapped, but it’s still the best thing gerard’s ever felt probably. she angles her head so that their lips slot together a little easier, and when she feels mr. iero gently cup the side of her head, it’s what gives her the courage to gently part her lips and lick the seam of mr. iero’s mouth.

he opens it immediately, and she has her tongue in his mouth for about three seconds, settling into what will probably be the best make out session of her life, when he suddenly pulls back, eyes wide, breathing kind of hard. “gerard—” he starts, but clears his throat when it comes out raspy. “you—i—we can’t—” the look on his face is a little desperate, and gerard just sort of shuts down.

“no, right, of. of course,” she says, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knows that there’s more to it, but she’s spent so long being told from every direction how much she, as a transfeminine person, doesn’t deserve something like this, how evil she is for tricking him into thinking she’s a woman when she could never _really_ be.

she tries to keep her face blank but there must be something there that gives her away, because mr. iero looks helpless as he tries, “ _gerard_ ,” but she just. she can’t do this. not right now, she _can’t_. she needs to go home and she needs to cry, and she needs to spill her guts to mikey, who she knows won’t judge her, and then she needs to draw some shit and write some shit and work on booking as many shows for nancy drew as they possibly can during break because nothing gets her mind off things like being on stage.

she just kind of stares at him for a moment, before she tears her gaze away and says, “i have to go, i’m. i’m really sorry.” as she grabs her bag and books it out of there as quickly as she can, she thinks she hears him call for her one more time, but she tries to ignore it.

–

so like after gerard has made her feelings clear to frank and he’s turned her down because he’s so torn and guilty about their respective ages/power dynamics and stuff, he’s probably super sulky. it’s spring break, so he probably just stays at home all sad and feeling like a terrible horrible disgusting person, and he’s all like “shit. shit. she’s so hot. and really cool. and funny. and an amazing artist. and i like her a lot. and she’s my fucking _eighteen year old student shit shit shit_.”

and then like the friday evening halfway into the break, jamia calls him and is like “you’re sulking and it’s really harshing my vibe so i’m taking you to a gig tonight, apparently there’s a good band playing, lindsey told me she’s friends with the lead singer and that they have a lot of potential. it’s at that all ages club because apparently they’re just, like, babies, but whatever. get ready. i’m gonna pick you up in an hour.”

and like frank thinks, okay. he’s been harshing his _own_ vibe lately too, it’s pretty pathetic, and he thinks maybe all he needs to get his mind off his _own fucking student_ ~~fucking his own student lmao am i right~~ is some good live music. maybe a mosh pit if he can bring himself to feel up to it.

and anyway he gets ready and he’s wearing like, torn jeans and a v neck that shows off lots of tattoos and stuff, and he’s put his lip and nose rings in and he's feeling good, and then he’s in jamia’s car and they’re driving to this club and he’s like, okay, alright, this could be good, this could make things better.

and it does make things better for a little bit, like he hasn’t really gone out in a while and he’s seeing a lot of people here he recognizes and has pleasant conversation with, and apparently this band is like really good or something, there’s just a lot of hype, so frank’s getting excited because he’s all for hearing good bands for the first time, and everything’s okay again—

BUT THEN GUESS FUCKING WHAT THE BAND IS NANCY DREW THAT’S FUCKING RIGHT and they come out and frank’s like ??? because he kind of recognizes them but he can’t seem to figure out where from, and then as the (totally raucous) applause dies down the lead singer takes the microphone from her stand and grins delightedly out at the crowd, and oh shit, frank knows that smile anywhere, but surely it can’t be—

“hey, motherfuckers! i’m gee and i’m gonna be singing for you lovely folks tonight, over on the bass is mikey, ray’s on guitar, and back there on the drums is our elusive minion bob.” it is. it totally is. part of frank thinks he should probably leave asap but he can’t bring himself to for some reason. he hears the guy on drums yell _fuck you_ and watches gerard flip him off over her shoulder without looking as she continues talking. “mikey’s my little brother, he’s, like, twelve, and very impressionable, so don’t fucking swear in front of him or i’ll kick your ass, okay?” mikey flips _her_ off and she laughs, putting her tiny teeth on display, and frank has to close his eyes for a moment.

she just sounds so happy and comfortable in a way frank doesn’t think he’s ever seen her before, and it’s _doing_ things to him. not to mention the way she’s dressed, fucking tight leather pants, and a muscle tee big enough that any time she turns to the side, frank can see the very slight chub of her abdomen and bright red of a bra. he’s also pretty sure he can just see the outline of her dick in her pants. frank can’t take his eyes off of her and he can’t even bring himself to feel bad about it anymore either.

“anyway, so, how many of you guys in the crowd have ever been singled out or treated like shit for your gender or sexual identity?” a large portion of the crowd shouts, which doesn’t really surprise frank considering the room is basically entirely lgbtq. gerard grins at this too, but it’s more of a baring of teeth than anything. “it fucking sucks, right? i haven’t actually been beaten up in a while personally, which is good because otherwise i wouldn’t have worn this shirt and i really fucking love this shirt.” frank really fucking loves that shirt too. “anyway, we’re nancy drew and this song’s called teenagers,” she says, and then they launch into the first song, and it’s.

it’s really good.

frank is sort of blown away, like it’s not like he’d expected them to be _bad_ or anything, but he hadn’t really expected them to be this good either. the confidence gerard possesses on stage is so different than anything frank’s used to seeing, and he fucking loves it. he knows he should leave, should have left a _while_ ago, but he doubts he has the strength, now.

plus, he reasons with himself, if he left he’d have to explain to jamia why, which is a bad idea for all sorts of reasons.

the band plays a few more songs, and lindsey joins them at some point. frank can hear her and jamia talking about gerard, and while part of him would like to hear what lindsey has to say about her, a larger part of him doesn’t want to take an ounce of focus off of the band, and the girl strutting around the stage.

the further into their set they get, the sweatier gerard gets, till her hairline is damp and her shirt is sticking to her body, and it’s fucking killing frank. in the last song they play, there’s a part where she stops, arches her back, throws her head back, opens her mouth a little, and lets out possibly the most sexual noise frank has ever heard, and he honest to fucking god thinks he will explode. this is his student. his trans teenage student who has come to him for help and someone to talk to and he is her cis adult teacher who she trusts and looks up to, those power dynamics are so fucked up, this is so fucked up, frank just—

(a little voice somewhere in his whispers about how technically she’s eighteen, and she made a move first, and he knows for a fact that if anything ever happened and she said at any point she was uncomfortable he would stop immediately, but he tries to ignore that voice because it’s still not okay. he’s still a creepy asshole.)

nancy drew introduces the next act and then goes backstage, and he finally lets himself tune into lindsey and jamia’s conversation. “yeah,” lindsey is saying. “i guess recently some guy rejected gerard pretty hard, because she’s trans or something.” fuck, is that what gerard thinks? that he gives a shit about her gender? “this is the first show they’ve done in a while, even though they’re a huge hit with the scene despite their age, and i think the others were worried she’d be off her game, but i know gee. she’s fucking fierce. if anything, it just made her better.”

frank sort of regrets tuning into the conversation now.

“anyway, i bet i could get us backstage if you guys wanted to meet them. they’re probably the coolest high schoolers ever.” fuck no.

“that’d be cool,” jamia says, and when lindsey starts making her way to the back of the room, jamia grabs frank’s hand and starts tugging him along with her.

frank tries so hard to come up with a reason he has to leave and then book it the fuck out of there, he _tries_ , but it’s like his mind has been wiped completely and he can’t think of a single thing, and the next thing he knows they’re backstage, lindsey calling gerard’s name. he sees her coming and he tries to sort of hide in the shadows, hoping to god it’s enough to keep her from seeing him long enough that he can think of a reason to whisper to jamia and then fucking _leave_.

“whoa, hey linds! what’s up? mikey and ray went to make out somewhere, bob’s a fucking ninja so i have no idea where he possibly went, but i’m totally up for hanging out!” she’s _right fucking there_ , and she looks so good, and her voice is just a little raspy from the show, and frank is fucking frozen. he can’t stop staring. he’s going to fucking hell.

“hey, babe, i had some friends i wanted to introduce you to. this is jamia,” gerard gives jamia a once over, grinning and curtsying a little. “and this is—” frank can tell the exact moment gerard sees him. she stills, eyes widening a bit, and swallows audibly.

“i–i have to go. i’ll talk to you later, jay.” frank suddenly finds his voice and somehow manages to tear his eyes from gerard, booking it out of there. he realizes he doesn’t have a car, so instead he decides to sneak out into the alleyway, like some fresh air might make this all go away. as he walks quickly to an exit, he thinks he hears gerard say she has to go somewhere real quick, but he doesn’t let himself think about it as he slips outside and leans heavily against the wall, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

he stays like that for a few moments before he hears the door gently open and shut, and he doesn’t have to open his eyes to know it’s gerard. he opens them anyway.

she’s just sort of standing there a few feet away, staring at him wide eyed. frank stares back. “what are you doing here,” she says quietly, and bites her lip. it fucking destroys frank.

“i, um. jamia. she’s my friend, she asked me to come with her. if i’d known i wouldn’t have—” he cuts himself off, realizing how gerard will probably take it if he says he wouldn’t have come.

gerard closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “you wouldn’t have come. right.” silence falls, and it’s excruciating. gerard hasn’t opened her eyes, and frank gazes helplessly at her for a moment, before he just can’t take it anymore.

“gerard,” he starts. she doesn’t open her eyes. “you can’t–you can’t honestly _think_ , that i, that i said no because you’re trans. i would _never_ —” he cuts himself off again, having no idea how to continue. gerard opens her eyes.

“that’s not why? you don’t care that i have a dick?” she asks quietly. she’s not looking at him.

“ _no_ ,” he says, a little desperately, and tries not to think about gerard’s _dick, jesus christ_.

“but then…? i really—i really thought you liked me. so why?”

“gerard, you’re my _student_ ,” he says, and now he’s the one with his eyes closed.

“that’s it?” she asks.

“no, that’s _not fucking it_ , like it doesn’t matter or something. i’m your _teacher_ , i’m _six years older than you_. i’m a huge fucking creep and you need to stay away from me.”

“so you do want me,” gerard breathes, and honestly, he thinks, is that the only thing she got out of that entire thing, but she sounds close enough that frank can’t help opening his eyes to see, and then immediately regrets it because she’s _right fucking there_ , and she’s still biting her damn lip, and her face is still slightly flushed from the show. frank swallows.

he looks her in the eye helplessly and he says, “how could i _not_ ,” and he’s pretty sure he had more to say after that but the next thing he knows, gerard has pushed him against the wall and is pressing her lips hard against his.

frank should stop this. frank should push her away and leave and not look back. he should find a new fucking job, one where there’s no students he wants nothing more than to lay out on his desk and reduce to a moaning mess.

frank kisses back.

–

AAAAAAAAND i’m, like, really uncomfortable writing anything even remotely porny for this mess of a not!fic aside from, like, the very very barest descriptions of it, for reasons that involve going to hell and unhealthy power dynamics, but i feel like you can probably use your imagination if you want.

anyway, they probably Do It in the alleyway, by which i mean, make out a lot and come in their pants like teenagers (gerard _is_ a teenager, she totally has an excuse. frank does too, honestly, which is that gerard is like hella hot). any uncomfortable stickiness in their pants magically disappears immediately for the sake of plot convenience.

gerard buries her face in frank’s neck as they come down from it all, and eventually gerard asks frank if he has a car. he tells her he doesn’t, and she says that she and the guys came in two different cars because mikey and ray like to do fucking scarring things after shows and she hadn’t wanted to have to be in a car with the both of them afterwards. “i could, uh. i could go tell them i’m gonna go, and then we could, like, go somewhere?” she says it quietly, kind of resigned like she’s already accepted that he’s gonna say no, which is probably what convinces him to agree more than anything else.

she goes back inside and he walks around to the front, standing in the shadows a bit and texting jamia, telling her not to worry, that he’s okay and he’ll explain later. eventually gerard comes out and smiles a little at frank and his heart twinges a bit. he follows her to her car, getting in and buckling up, feeling more and more anxious about this as time passes.

gerard starts the car, though, and says, “there’s this, um. this park, a little ways away from here, if that’s, uh. if that’s alright,” and frank has to smile then.

they drive in silence but it’s not nearly as awkward as frank would have expected it to be, and once they get to the park it is thoroughly abandoned. they find a bench under a streetlamp and sit a respectable distance away from each other. they’re both facing forward but frank keeps stealing glances at gerard out of the corner of his eye and at some point he realizes how close their fingertips are on the bench and his heart starts beating absurdly fast. he feels ridiculous, but in a good way probably.

“you should probably call me frank, now,” he says quietly. it’s strange, that he’s being so quiet now. frank is not generally a quiet person. he sees gerard look down at her lap, smiling kind of shyly as her hair falls in her face. she mouths it to herself, _frank_ , and frank kind of wants to hug her and never let go.

“is this—” she starts, but then stops, like she’s not sure how to proceed, but frank thinks he knows what she’s trying to say. _is this okay?_

“i—i think so,” he says. “i mean, i want it to be. it’s just, you have to understand, gee, you’re—you’re my _student_. my eighteen year old trans student and i am your twenty four year old cis teacher, the power dynamics there, they’re. they’re really unhealthy and unfair.” he takes a deep breath. “not to mention, if anyone found out, the consequences would be—we just. we’d have to keep it a secret. you shouldn’t have to put up with a boyfriend who won’t even, like, hold your hand in public.” frank realizes a little too late that he’s referred to himself as gerard’s _boyfriend_ , but he finds he doesn’t mind it as much as he probably should.

“that’s all, it’s. it’s all true, and i, like, i _recognize_ that, but i’m still technically an adult, and i don’t mind keeping it a secret, and that’s all that really matters, right?” she’s looking at him through her hair, biting her lip. frank stares back at her for a moment and then slowly covers her hand with his own, and when she smiles slowly he can’t help but feel like he’s made the right decision.

they sit there, holding hands, talking sort of idly about things for a bit. when frank tells her how great she/the band was, she blushes and it’s probably the cutest thing frank’s ever seen. _i’m so fucked_ , he thinks.

“do you,” he starts, after they’ve been silent for a few minutes. “are you comfortable with the term ‘girlfriend’, or is there, like, something else you prefer.” she bites her lip again. she does that a lot.

“it’s. okay. it’s kind of weird, and you, like, you don’t have to use it if you don’t want, but. i kind of like ‘datefriend’ more than ‘girlfriend’.” she has this look on her face like he honestly would refuse to use the term, meanwhile he’s not wished they didn’t have to keep this a secret more than he does at this moment so that he could introduce her to everybody as his datefriend. it’s perfect.

they fall into silence for a moment again, but it’s comforting. eventually, gerard turns to him quickly and is like, “i am about to crawl into your lap and kiss you, so you should tell me now if that’s not a thing you want me to do.” frank stares at her and suddenly can’t seem to get his vocal chords to work, but even if he could, there’s no way he would have said no.

she straddles his lap, and he somehow works up the courage to rest his hands on her sides, feeling her bare skin through the arm holes of what is maybe the biggest muscle tee he’s ever seen, and then suddenly they’re kissing again. gerard sighs into into his mouth, and frank kind of wants this to last forever.

–

more stuff happens probably. idk. they probably sneak around a lot, she probably continues to stay after school to “help out”, but now instead of always wasting time talking, they sometimes waste time making out. it’s pretty awesome.

mikey and ray find out relatively soon after the whole thing starts. frank was sort of worried about anyone knowing at first, but he’s since learned that they’re pretty cool dudes, so it’s fine. ray just sort of smiled at him more during class after finding out. mikey’s a junior and therefore does not have frank for a teacher but that doesn’t stop him from one day coming with gerard to frank’s classroom after school, not staying the entire time but just long enough to, fuck, not even really _say_ anything, just stare menacingly into frank’s soul for a few minutes before gerard starts threatening him with bodily harm till he agrees to leave. somehow it gets to frank better than any overprotective speech could have. mikey way is one freaky sixteen year old.

they’ve been together for about a month when gerard goes over to frank’s apartment for the first time. it’s kind of perfect, and they just sort of sloppily make out on frank’s bed for like half an hour like fifteen year olds. it’s super romantic.

they’re there, at frank’s apartment, one day when gerard just kind of squints at frank till frank finally looks up at her and asks, “what’s up?” gerard immediately blushes and tries to pretend she hasn’t been staring at him for five minutes.

“it’s just, uh. i was wondering if it’d be alright if i, like, drew you.” frank’s entire face lights up.

“holy _shit_ , yes, absolutely, is there anything specific you want me to do?” frank is like gerard’s number two fan when it comes to her art; nobody could ever beat out mikey for his place as number one, and frank recognizes this, so he’s not even gonna try.

“um, could you, like. could you take your shirt off maybe?” at frank’s raised eyebrow, gerard blushes. “it’s just, your tattoos.” frank grins, and sheds his shirt like it’s nothing.

gerard just has him lay on the couch. he stays like that for a while, till eventually gerard sets her pencil down and starts flexing her hands, stretching.

“oh shit, can i see? can i see?” frank is like a puppy, and gerard’s still not entirely used to it.

she shyly hands it over to him, and he just sort of stares at it for a while. “is it okay?” she asks, as though she’s afraid it’s not good. it’s perfect. frank blinks sort of blankly up at gerard before setting the sketchbook to the side and slowly walking towards where she’s sitting on the floor, getting down on his knees in front of her, and gently pushing her down so she’s laying with him splayed out on top of her.

before they even start kissing, frank rolls his hips into hers in an attempt to show her exactly _how_ much he likes it.

“ _oh_ ,” she breathes out, and they don’t get up from the floor for a while after that.

–

so one day they’re studying some novel in which a character tries to kill themselves and ends up in a psych ward. they are having an open discussion about it, because frank is a big fan of open discussions, and a lot of the kids are making jokes about it. they’re making jokes, and frank keeps telling them to shut the fuck up, but they don’t. gerard’s okay, though. she’s fucking fierce, she can sit through this _one_ class for just forty more minutes.

and then it’s okay, sort of. the awful kids tone it down. and then. and then. and then. someone behind gerard makes a joke about _her_ , loudly enough that she can hear it clearly. people start to laugh, because apparently they all remember with clarity the time in freshman year when gerard left school for three weeks. she remembers that some kid had somehow stolen the note explaining everything that she was meant to give to the principal, and everyone in the entire school knew what had happened by that afternoon.

there’s thirty more minutes of class left. gerard’s head is pounding. she looks up at frank, who’s staring at her with concern and uncertainty, and she can’t fucking do it. she doesn’t ask to be excused, just gets up suddenly and runs to the door, not breathing till she’s out in the hallway.

she feels like the walls are closing in on her, and it’s so fucking stupid, it shouldn’t be this big of a deal, she doesn’t understand why she’s reacting this way.

she’s shaking now, and she can hear herself trying to breathe. she feels like she’s underwater. she needs mikey. why do they have to be in fucking school right now, honestly. she somehow finds herself leaning heavily against the lockers, sliding down slowly. she pulls her legs up to her chest, buries her face in her knees, rocks back and forth in an attempt to calm herself as she gasps for air.

she’s not paying attention so she doesn’t hear frank come up to her until he says her name. out of the corner of her eye she sees him reaching a hand towards her, and she starts shaking her head quickly. he pulls his hand back.

“gerard, gee, what can i do? what can i do to help?”

“mikey, i need—mikey.”

frank runs a hand through his hair and curses. “okay, gerard, i really think you should go to the nurse’s office, if you can’t walk i can carry you, you know i won’t hurt you, and then once you’re there i swear i’ll get mikey.” gerard’s still having trouble breathing, and she’s crying now, but she looks up at frank and stares for a moment before nodding.

he scoops her up and rushes to the nurse’s office, and she sort of blocks everything out from there till she suddenly feels mikey climbing into the cot she’s curled up in, shaking her head over and over and shivering.

“i don’t think—” she vaguely hears the nurse start to complain at mikey getting in the cot with her, but mikey doesn’t even deem her with a response, just flips her off before curling himself around gerard.

gerard knows frank’s still there, standing a few feet away, somehow having convinced the nurse that staying to make sure his student is okay is more important than going back to his class, and she’s so embarrassed. she doesn’t want to do this in front of frank, not _frank_ , she’s so stupid, she’s awful, she’s useless and he’s probably going to break up with her now and—

“gee,” mikey says into her shoulder, and she somehow relaxes enough to slowly wrap her arms around him. mikey’s good, mikey means things will be okay. “what happened, gee?” he asks.

“there were—we were talking about, about suicide, and, and, and, one of the others mentioned, they—” she takes a shuddery breath. “they made a joke, about _it_ , and i’m so, i’m so, i’m so st–stupid and weak and i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i’m,” she can’t finish because she’s started crying again. she feels mikey hold her tighter.

“do, gee, do you remember, after, after,” he stops. takes a breath. “when i pretty much lived in the basement with you? for, like, weeks? you made me help you pick out your outfits, said you wanted a nerd’s point of view.” gerard’s smile is sort of wobbly, but it’s still there as she nods her head and hiccups, slowly coming down from it all now.

“you want to do that again? the whole weekend. we can, can stay down there the entire time till mom has to drag us up by our ankles.” gerard laughs.

“do—do you think we could. could call lindsey?”

“definitely, just as long as you two don’t try to ambush me and paint my nails again.” gerard takes a deep breath and smiles, agrees to the deal. mikey is magic. mikey is so magic that gerard doesn’t even notice frank, standing in the corner of the room, looking so concerned and terrified.

and then they do stay in the basement basically all weekend, till sunday evening, when gerard somehow is only just remembering that frank saw the entire thing, and that if he’s gonna be her boyfriend he should probably be aware of certain things.

she tells her parents and mikey that she’s going to draw in the park. her parents buy it but she thinks mikey maybe knows. if he does, though, he doesn’t say anything, so she doesn’t worry too much about it as she drives to frank’s apartment.

when he opens the door he looks so relieved to see her, but like he’s unsure if he should touch her or not. “can i come in?” she asks quietly, and he nods quickly, moving aside so she can enter and walk over to the couch. he sits a few feet away from her, and looks like he’s trying to think of something to say. before he starts talking and she loses her nerve, she starts.

“there’s—there’s something you should know. about me.” she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. she thinks if she looks at him she won’t be able to do this. “when i was fifteen, i, uh. i tried to kill myself. i had just, like, had just started realizing about the whole, the whole gender thing, and i was just so scared and lost and i didn’t know what to do. i wanted to tell my family but i was terrified of how they’d react, and i was so depressed, and then one day i just. couldn’t do it anymore.

“i, uh, took some pills and got in the bathtub. i don’t, like, i don’t really remember much of what happened, i was pretty out of it, but i guess my mom found me and they took me to the hospital.” gerard takes a shuddery breath. “i just. remember waking up and being told they’d pumped my stomach and i was, i was so _angry_ , like i couldn’t even _kill myself_ right. i was in a psych ward for about a week after that, and then stayed out of school for another two weeks. when i went back i had this note that, that i was supposed to give to the principal, but somehow another kid stole it and read it and then everyone in the entire school found out within hours.”

she’s so caught up in trying to remain calm she barely registers frank asking softly if he can hug her, but she does so she nods, relaxing a little in his arms. she still doesn’t want to open her eyes, but she feels him brush her hair back behind her ear and then lay them out horizontally on the couch. she’s not really sure how long they stay there, but they do, for a while, neither of them talking. eventually frank says quietly, “i love you, gee,” and she curls her fingers around the front of his shirt and buries her face in his neck.

–

gerard is, like, kind of obsessed with frank’s tattoos, right. she could just stare at them for hours. she probably has a secret notebook that’s just full of drawings of his tattoos. mikey probably finds it at some point and even though he hasn’t seen all of frank’s tattoos, he thinks it’s a safe bet that these drawings are probably all of them. he’s super torn because on one hand they’re really good, but then on the other, _gross_. frank’s pretty cool, they’ve all hung out a few times by now, and he doesn’t treat mikey like a kid or anything, but that doesn’t mean mikey wants to think of him and gerard in any situation where she might get to see tattoos of his that aren’t visible when he’s wearing a shirt or whatever.

but mikey also probably will take any opportunity he can to make fun of gerard, so he still brings it up with her one evening, all, “you’re way too obsessed with this guy’s tattoos, gee, i think it may be time for an intervention.” gerard mentions something about frank’s ass to get mikey to drop it, but he won’t give up that easily, fuck no, so the next day before school starts he rushes to frank’s classroom and throws the notebook on his desk and is like, “you should know this is what you’ve gotten yourself into,” or something like that.

gerard has _no idea_ that mikey has done this till english that day, when they finish the lesson a little early and the class gets some free time, and frank suddenly says loudly, “oh, gerard? i found something of yours.” when gerard looks up and sees it’s her notebook full of her creepy stalker sketches, she maybe dies a little inside. frank just has this shiteating grin on his face. gerard is literally going to kill mikey, kill him fucking _dead_.

–

nancy drew still has practices/shows obviously, even though it’s not really talked about in this except for when it’s convenient, and frank probably goes to most of their shows now. he stays in the crowd, because watching from the sidestage feels risky for some reason.

maybe sometimes people will flirt with him at shows, which makes sense because he’s super hot, but he obviously never reciprocates it. it seems like somehow gerard always knows when that happens though, because it’s like every night someone flirts with frank, she puts like 10x more effort into being super hot during the show. frank is torn between not appreciating it and _really fucking appreciating it_.

probably he starts going to practices with them too, hanging out on their shitty couch in their shitty practice space and watching them practice, giving them feedback and heckling them from time to time.

it’s weird at first, because even if he’s basically in love with gerard, she and ray are still his students? mikey’s not one his students because he’s in the wrong grade, but he still goes to the high school that frank _teaches at_. but they’re also kind of some of the coolest people frank knows, and all it takes is about five minutes into the first time he shows up at practice with gerard to get over any weird feelings they may have about it and start treating him like there’s absolutely nothing strange about the situation, so he figures it’s cool.

hanging out during their band practice becomes one of his favorite things, because he doesn’t have to pretend gerard’s just a student to him in front of them. there was probably a moment at first when he wasn’t so sure because mikey probably said something about it being gross/fucked up, but frank’s since realized that he was 1) joking and 2) making a reference to the fact that gerard is in a relationship at all.

also, after mikey and ray have gotten used to him, they tell him tons of embarrassing things about gerard, which is The Best. “are you aware of how much time your datefriend spends in the basement by herself? she’s practically allergic to the sun,” mikey says one time, and frank gasps and asks gerard if she’s a vampire, and she ends up drawing pictures of them getting eaten by zombies but as a revenge tactic it totally backfires because they just think the pictures are fucking cool.

–

when gerard graduates they’ve probably been together for just 2-3 months, which doesn’t seem nearly long enough but whatever, time passes more slowly in this universe or something. don’t fucking question me, i will fight you.

she walks across the stage at graduation, and of all the eyes on her, she feels like she can feel frank’s gaze specifically. after the ceremony she spends just long enough taking pictures for her parents that they won’t be suspicious or something, and then escapes as quickly as possible. she goes looking for frank, and finds him smoking by his car. she doesn’t even say hi, just immediately says, “i want you to meet my parents.” he blinks.

“what?”

“my parents. i want you to meet them. we’re both adults, i’m not your student anymore, and i want you to meet them.” frank looks shocked, but also not like he’s shut down the idea immediately, which gerard considers a plus.

“they’ll probably still be able to deduce that this isn’t just a new thing, gee,” he says, but gerard just shakes her head.

“i don’t care, that doesn’t matter now. it doesn’t have to be right this moment, but, just. i want you to meet them.”

he lets out a breath before nodding slowly. “okay. i’d like that.” gerard thinks _we’re in the middle of the school parking lot, i really probably shouldn’t kiss him here_ , but she kisses him anyway, just a quick peck, a promise of much bigger things.

–

he does meet gerard’s parents, about a week later. he goes over to the way residence for dinner, mikey probably helps orchestrate it. it’s fucking terrifying, but gerard’s parents are really nice and even though it’s obvious they aren’t fooled about the fact that Frank&Gerard has probably going on for a while now, they don’t really seem to care. afterwards, they all watch a movie in the living room or something and frank and gerard hold hands in plain sight and frank is not threatened by overprotective/angry parents even once and it’s awesome.

there’s this vague notion in my head that at this point frank should join the band and nancy drew should become mcr, but that might still be weird since mikey’s still a student, but also like, who cares.

gerard probably walks in on frank playing the guitar somehow and is like “dude. Dude” and when she suggests he join the band, he’s really unsure about whether that’s a good idea or not, but also he hasn’t been in a band since college and he misses it a lot and really there’s no way he could ever actually say no. thus mcr is born, and everyone lives happily ever after (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

**Author's Note:**

> i wish gerard way would be MY datefriend. im a fan of italics can you tell


End file.
